Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. III

XII

Unlike the city of Talak, Penacles, situated to the southeast of the Manor, was a place of tall towers, many of them topped with majestic, pointed spires. It was also a land of gardens, reminding those who had journeyed from the Manor of their home. The gardens were everywhere and ranged from small plots of earth in the center of the bazaar to huge, rolling landscapes toward the eastern part of the kingdom.

Cabe could hardly believe that this day had finally come. It seemed as if the past few days had dragged slowly by. Preparing for this second visit had been only a part of the problem. Cabe and Gwen had also had to cope with the nagging fear that they had missed some legacy of Toma’s. There had also been the more realistic problem of Valea, who stared after Kyl at every opportunity. Somehow, Cabe had kept the two apart save on occasions when they were all together, but he knew that after Penacles something permanent would have to be done. Because of Kyl’s rank, the warlock had forborne from directly confronting him on this issue, but no more. This was one situation that could not go on.

Penacles had known no overseeing Dragon King for well over a century, not since the Gryphon and Cabe’s own grandfather, Nathan, had brought down the Dragon King Purple. The Gryphon had then ruled here until his long-hidden past had forced him on a journey across the seas and into the dark empire of the Aramites. While he fought to bring down the wolf raiders’ regime, his most trusted aide, General Toos, also known as the Fox, had ruled in his place . . . and had proved quite an impressive monarch in his own right. Still, even after roughly two decades as lord of Penacles, fiery-haired Toos still insisted he was only holding the fort until his king came to his senses. Hence the tall, narrow ruler’s nickname of Toos the Regent.

After Talak, Kyl did not seem as awestruck with Penacles, although that did not mean that the dragon heir was not fascinated. He drank in the wonders of the City of Knowledge. The dizzying heights of the many towers most impressed him, for Cabe noticed the young drake eye them again and again. Grath, too, was amazed. The Green Dragon and Benjin Traske, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the beauty of the ancient kingdom. Of course, they had been to Penacles many times before.

Things were going well, but Cabe could not shake his uneasiness. He felt that he had a good reason, though; one of his party was missing.

Darkhorse had never promised that he would also accompany them to Penacles, and it may have been that the shadow steed felt it unnecessary since Toos was a much more reasonable ruler than tempestuous Melicard. Certainly, both the former and present monarchs of Penacles were on fair terms with the eternal. Kyl would not have impressed them by maneuvering Darkhorse into journeying with him to this place. The eternal would have understood that, too.

Still, Cabe had expected some word from the massive stallion. That this had happened virtually on top of their discovery of Toma’s intrusion was likely why the warlock was so bothered. It was not as if Darkhorse had not disappeared without explanation before. The eternal was governed by no one save himself.

“Is that the palace?” Grath asked him, leaning close so as to be heard over the trumpets and the crowds.

Cabe shelved his thoughts and studied the structure looming ahead of them. “Yes, that’s it.”

He knew why Grath had asked him. The palace of the lords of Penacles was a sharp contrast to that of the kings of Talak and also, in fact, to the city of Penacles itself. With so much beauty everywhere else, it was surprising to first-time visitors to discover that the palace resembled nothing more than a great stone fortress. The walls were a drab, unadorned gray and the only entrance was a massive iron gate. Huge marble steps that seemed to go on forever led up to the palace. There were no decorative columns, no gardens, and no statuary save the lone marble figure of a gryphon in flight. The last had been a gift to the lionbird from some of the citizenry during his long and productive reign. Toos had left it where it was as one more reminder that he was not king.

The honor guard that had been provided for them led the caravan directly to the palace. As in Talak, they were met at the steps. Toos was there, accompanied by the Gryphon, four officers who were a part of the regent’s personal staff, and a small honor guard. The former general had never taken a queen, although in the past year he had begun to court one or two women. Despite his resemblance to a man entering his latter years, the vulpine monarch had at least a good fifty years left of life. That was because mixed in with the graying red hair-red hair that had once made Cabe joke that Gwen and the regent might be very long lost cousins-was a streak of silver. Toos, like Cabe, was a mage, but in the former mercenary’s case, the magic apparently manifested itself as an uncanny ability to outmaneuver his opponents, be it on the field of battle or in the intrigue-laden courts of Penacles. The only other sign that Toos was a man of magic was his age. A sorcerer could live to be three, and in some cases, four, centuries old. Toos was already well beyond the normal life span of a human.

“Welcome, Lord Kyl.” The voice was strong and, while formal, still quite different from the practiced tones of the aristocracy. There was also a look in the regent’s eye, a look that hinted of humor.

“Greetingsss to you, General Toosss,” replied the young drake, executing a bow. The two then shook hands.

Cabe held back a smile. The heir, possibly with a little reminding from Grath, had remembered that Toos did not care to be called king or lord. The regent considered himself a soldier and so preferred to retain his rank.

“Your journey went well?” asked Toos.

“Quite well, thank you. I had forgotten what a wondrousss land Penaclesss wasss, or what a fassscinating place the city proper isss.”

“You’re not referring to the block of stone behind me, I hope,” commented the regent with a foxlike smile.

Kyl was momentarily taken aback by the openness of Toos. The young drake had met the human on occasion over the years, but not for quite some time and most often for only a few minutes. Cabe had warned him about the general, reminding him that Toos had been a mercenary and warrior for far longer than he had been lord of a mighty kingdom. Even the warlock, who had known Toos since the days when the angular commander had led the defenders of a besieged Penacles against the invading dragon forces of the Dragon Emperor, could not always adjust to the man’s mercurial style. As a soldier, Toos had constantly kept his adversaries off guard, the better to defeat them swift and sure. The style had suited him in his present role as well.

“The palace isss very-”

“Functional. The inside is not much of an improvement, although the grand ballroom and the royal court are decorative enough, I suppose. We’d best leave it at that.” Again, there was the foxlike smile. “Now, Lord Kyl, if you will allow my staff to see to your people, we shall end this greeting and instead save our breaths for climbing these steps.”

The drakes were not at first certain as to how to take the almost flippant manner of their host. The warlock smiled slightly. Toos had changed since their first introduction.

Grath whispered something to Kyl, who eyed the steps. The emperor-to-be nodded, then replied to the waiting Toos. “Yesss, the sssuggessstion hasss merit, General. Much merit.”

Snapping his fingers, Toos sent two of his officers to deal with the caravan. Then, waiting for Kyl to step up beside him, the general led the way. Everyone soon saw the wisdom of the regent’s words. The climb was exhausting, even to those who had been prepared for it. Progress slowed the higher they climbed, but at last the party reached the top of the steps.

Toos glared at the path they had just tread, grumbling, “That you can blame on one of your own, Lord Kyl. Someday, I must do something about it.”

“I said that for years, Toos,” retorted the Gryphon. “You would have to tear down everything here, though. That would be a massive undertaking.”

“Each time I climb those steps, it becomes more and more tempting, I’ll say that.”

Cabe surveyed the others and found to his surprise that, other than the sentries, who would not think of showing their exhaustion, the only one who appeared unaffected by the climb was Benjin Traske. The warlock stared hard at the massive tutor and finally had to ask, “Are you well, Benjin?”

“I have always believed in maintaining both the mind and the body, Lord Bedlam.”

“So I see now.” He shook his head. With a minor spell, the sorcerer could have reinvigorated himself easily, but like Talak, Penacles had its special defenses. Some remained from the days when the Dragon King Purple had ruled, and others from the reign of the Gryphon, but there were also a vast number of new spells protecting the city, placed there at the regent’s request.

Toos looked over his guests. “If we’re all ready to continue, I’ve planned some food and entertainment. Lord Kyl, have you ever witnessed a living chess game before?”

The young drake’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “I mussst sssay that I have certainly not.” He glanced down at his brother, who shook his head in equal confusion.

“Then I think that you have a treat awaiting you. If you’ll all follow me?”

Penacles had been at peace for years, their neighbor to the east, mist-enshrouded Lochivar, having been quiet since the Gryphon had nearly dealt its master, the Black Dragon, a mortal blow. The darksome lord of the Grey Mists still lived and ruled, but it was said that he could barely speak and that his powers were waning.

That meant that Penacles had an army that trained and trained, but had no enemy to fight. While Toos looked forward to peace as much as most other folk did, he believed in maintaining a strong force. One never knew when times might change. Therefore, it had behooved him to find some way in which his men could keep their skills paramount.

War games had solved that problem, at least where his soldiers were concerned. Each month, various units would maneuver against one another in the nearby hills and valleys. Men who excelled in skill and ingenuity were rewarded. The soldiers also kept wary, for it was possible to be injured. Officers worked to see that such injuries happened as rarely as was possible, though.

Yes, Toos had solved the problem of keeping his men at their best, but he could hardly join them on the field, however much he would have wanted to do so. There was the risk that something might happen to him, either by accident or due to some assassin. No ruler who desired to survive dared believe that there was not an assassin lurking nearby. Simply because the Black Dragon had made no new assaults on the kingdom in years did not mean that he had withdrawn his spies.

From his long years as the Gryphon’s second, the vulpine soldier had picked up a fondness for chess, especially its constant demand for reevaluating one’s strategy. Simple chess had been sufficient for some time, but then, while visiting the magical libraries of Penacles with the Gryphon, the bored regent had commented on his need for something further.

“To my surprise,” Toos said to his guests as he considered his next move, “the gnome spoke up.”

The libraries of Penacles were a magical wonder dating back possibly beyond the present city. No one knew much about them save that they were larger than should have been physically possible, some corridors stretching for what seemed miles underground, yet apparently movable, and accessible only through a wondrous tapestry hidden in the palace.

The libraries also had a librarian . . . or perhaps many, although if the latter was the case, then all of them were identical in form. For as long as either Toos or the Gryphon could recall, they had always been served by a small, squat, completely hairless gnome wearing a robe much like that of a mage. All one had to do was tell the gnome what one was searching for and the odd little figure would locate it. Rarely, however, did the gnome offer words of advice.

Toos made his move and continued. “He suggested a field, a life-sized board, and living champions to do combat. I scoffed at the idea at first, but . . .” The general indicated the area just before them. “You see what I’ve done.”

In what had once been a small arena where human slaves had fought for the personal amusement of the Dragon King, there was now a black-and-white pattern of squares, each approximately three feet by three feet. There were viewing boxes on each end of the board, providing seating for perhaps two dozen people apiece.

On the board, or sitting off to the sides, were soldiers clad in armor representing the various pieces in the game. These were the game’s living chessmen . . . and women, too, since not only did each side need a queen, but female soldiers had been a part of the army of Penacles since the days of the Gryphon’s reign.

Cabe took his mind off of the game to observe the lionbird himself, who was the general’s opponent. The first time the warlock had been invited to witness the tournament, he had come fearing that the regent had finally fallen prey to his power and had become a decadent tyrant. However, after watching the game and learning the rules behind it, he had come to enjoy it himself.

The chessmen were volunteers. Over the years, it had become a bit of prestige to be a combatant in the chess tournament. Unlike the true board game, a chess piece was not removed simply because another piece had captured it. Instead, the two warriors had to duel, utilizing their skills while remaining within the two squares involved. Fighters were removed if they lost or if they attempted to truly wound their adversaries. It had become a matter of honor for most soldiers involved to win as cleanly as possible, as the best were often chosen for a place in the royal guard.

At the moment, Toos was in grave danger. His rook, his last line of defense against the Gryphon, had just fallen in combat against the other’s knight. The rook, a man armed with a mace and shield, had been disarmed by the knight, an armored figure also using a shield, but instead of a mace had wielded a broadsword.

“I knew that would happen,” the regent muttered. “Luck of the draw! He’s current champion among the champions!”

The game ended three combats later. The rule involving checkmate particularly fascinated Cabe. First the player would have to assure that his opponent’s king had no escape. That was the same as a normal game of chess. However, in the general’s variation, the checking pieces then had to do battle with the beleaguered monarch. It was possible for the king to free himself from checkmate if he could eliminate every opponent involved, but he had to fight all of them; he could not move to safety after defeating the first adversary.

The drakes, especially Kyl and Grath, were eager to direct the game themselves. The Dragon King had already played on one or two of his previous visits, so he offered to stand aside and let brother go against brother. Toos repeated the differences in the rules from normal chess, then chose their pieces for them. Chessmen were always chosen by lottery, so that no player could ever come to trust too much in his warriors. It made for a more balanced game and, in fact, after the countless battles the Gryphon and Toos had played, the lionbird was up by only seven victories. Of course, if there were ever two opponents who knew how one another thought, it was the two former mercenaries.

While the regent guided Kyl and the Green Dragon, who had always had a fondness for the human game, coached Grath, the Gryphon made his way back to where Cabe and Benjin Traske sat watching the opening moves. As usual, Faras and Ssgayn took up a spot near the dragon heir, which made for some crowding as the general’s own guards insisted on watching the drakes.

“They will be quite occupied with this game,” the Gryphon commented as he joined the two humans. “This might be a good time to visit the libraries.”

“For what reason?”

“I’m doing some research, trying to see if I finally understand some of the methods by which the libraries pass on information. I’m certain now that long ago something happened that distorted the original function of the place. I thought that I might save my next visit for when you were here. Do you wish to come?”

“I’d be a fool to say no.” As the Manor was the warlock’s pet project, so were the libraries the Gryphon’s. Both researchers had achieved about the same amount of success so far . . . meaning very little. If the lionbird had finally made progress, Cabe wanted to see it for himself.

“Good!” The Gryphon paused, then eyed Traske. “Benjin, you’ve never been in the libraries before, have you?”

“No, my lord.”

“You haven’t?” That startled Cabe. “After all these years?”

“I blame Toos for that!” The former monarch of Penacles shook his head. “Toos has never trusted the libraries . . . and who can blame him? You and I were virtually the only ones he would allow to enter until fairly recently, warlock. The old fox rarely even visits them himself!”

Cabe had known the last, but not that Toos had been so restrictive. Surely, Benjin Traske, whose expertise had helped create the school of sorcery, deserved that much trust. Once again, he was reminded of the paranoia of the monarchy.

“Well, I think that it’s time the scholar was given permission to visit them,” the Gryphon commented with a glance toward the regent. “You may certainly join us, Benjin.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The calm veneer momentarily twisted into a look of extreme pleasure. Then, apparently remembering himself, Traske quickly reverted to his more stolid, scholarly expression.

As they rose to leave, Cabe could not resist quietly commenting to the Gryphon, “I thought that you no longer ruled this kingdom.”

“You may consider me king emeritus for the time being.”

“Perhaps you’d better hope that Toos will consider you that.”

The Gryphon chuckled, an incongruous sight, considering his features. “My old comrade-in-arms would be happy to consider me king of anything, just so long as he can relinquish the throne to me!” He pretended to shudder at the thought. “Now, come! We really should give Benjin all the time we can in the libraries!”

They left the drakes and the general to their game. The Gryphon led his companions back into the palace and through its halls. As the visitors had noticed on their initial walk through the gray edifice, the inside of the palace was little better decorated than the outside. A few pieces of art, most recent and all of them reminiscent of war, dotted the halls here and there, but for the most part the palace interior looked as if the architects had left their project undone. Only when they passed the grand ballroom was there a radical change. Cabe glanced inside as they passed by and marveled at the bright, glittering array of crystal and gold decorations. After the rest of the building, the sight of the ballroom was almost jarring.

On and on they walked. Cabe began to wonder why the Gryphon had not chosen to transport them there. Most likely it was because the lionbird preferred physical activity and considered such use of magic frivolous. While this pattern of thought was much akin to the warlock’s own way of thinking, this particular trek was one where he would have happily made an exception.

At last they came before a doorway beside which two huge, iron figures stood, roughly hewn warriors that, like the palace, seemed to have been abandoned before they had been completed. The Gryphon signaled his companions to halt. He continued on for several paces until he stood no more than two yards from the center of the doorway.

“Well? Will you let us pass?” the lionbird asked.

What happened next made Benjin Traske gasp and clutch the hilt of his blade, an action which, in retrospect, Cabe realized might have endangered all of them.

One of the iron figures slowly turned its head toward the waiting Gryphon. The other looked not at the lionbird, but rather at the two behind.

The warlock took hold of the scholar’s arm and whispered, “Make no false moves, Benjin. If they perceive you as a threat, they might attack. You’d be surprised at how fast they can move!”

“Iron golems,” the tutor muttered, still stunned. “I have heard of such, but only in old stories.”

“Did the stories mention what they could do to those they were sent against?”

Traske did not release his blade, but he made no other move, which was perhaps the best that Cabe could hope for.

Oddly, the Gryphon was still waiting for the doors to be opened. The golems continued to stare at the trio, as if uncertain what to do.

“You heard me. The three of us will enter here; is that understood?”

Very slowly, the golem watching the former monarch returned to its original stance. As its head swiveled back, the creature rumbled, “You may enter.”

“Thank you very much.” The Gryphon waved the other two forward.

The doors suddenly swung open of their own accord. Beyond was a chamber that, like the ballroom, was a contrast to the stark simplicity of the regent’s palace. That was because the chamber before them had once been the Gryphon’s very room, his private sanctum in the days when he had ruled Penacles.

With careful steps, the three entered the chamber. Cabe noticed that the other golem continued to observe the Gryphon’s two guests. He could not recall the last time that the iron monsters had taken such interest in him. Then he realized that it must be Traske in whom the metal man was interested, for the scholar had never been permitted entrance before.

Benjin Traske still clutched his knife hilt, but he had almost forgotten the golems. Now he was busy inspecting the room that they had entered, his eyes quickly fixing on one ornament in particular, a skillfully woven tapestry hanging on one of the walls.

“I still use this place on occasion, although for the most part my stays last only the day. Troia would never forgive me if I left her and Darot alone overnight. Since we live not that far from here, I cannot blame her. Mostly, I use this chamber when I’m researching the libraries.”

The doors suddenly swung closed and as they did, they revealed two more of the metal colossi standing guard inside. Cabe had seen these two often enough, but for the first time that he could recall, they were watching the Gryphon’s guests closely.

Leading them to the tapestry, the Gryphon explained its importance to the scholar. “This is the only way-the only way we know of-that one can gain entrance to the libraries.”

“The detail is fantastic!” whispered Traske. “And it appears to be very ancient. I have never seen such a style before.”

“We don’t know how old it is, Benjin, but it may be from the first Dragon King. No one is certain.”

Traske squinted. “But . . . this is present-day Penacles! That cannot be right!”

“The tapestry is quite magical. It always shows the kingdom as it presently is. We could watch a building being torn down, return to this chamber, and find that it’s also vanished from the image.”

“How does it help us journey to the libraries? I do not even see them.”

“You have to know how to look for them, Benjin. Where the libraries are concerned, you won’t see an actual building. Instead, there’s usually a symbol of some sort. It varies now and then. Sometimes it’s a book, other times it might simply be a cross or star. Knowing the tapestry as I do, I merely have to search for something that is out of place.” The Gryphon studied the image. “And I think . . . that’s certainly a strange choice!”

“What is it this time?” Cabe asked.

“See for yourself.” Their host put his finger next to the mark, then shifted to the side so that the others could look at it.

Just under several buildings in what was the eastern edge of the city was the symbol. Cabe had never seen its like in all the times he had watched the Gryphon use the tapestry, and its very pattern disturbed him.

Benjin Traske peered at it. “A very stylized version of a dragon, is it not?”

“It is. That’s not the symbol you find on each tome in the libraries, though. Looks very familiar.”

“It should,” whispered the warlock. “Kyrg and Toma both used it as one of their banners.”

“I’d forgotten that! Of course!”

Cabe frowned, suddenly filled with tension. “I don’t like that coincidence. This could mean that Toma somehow gained access to the libraries.” Traske, who had finally been told of the drake’s other intrusions, frowned at this. “He could be in there now.”

The Gryphon nodded agreement, but added, “I can’t see how he could have gotten into the libraries, but then he did get into the Manor. There may be danger in the libraries. Perhaps you should stay here after all, Benjin.”

The scholar looked disappointed but understanding. “If you think I should.”

“If nothing’s wrong, then we’ll immediately return for you. Now, if you could please step back ten paces?” He waited for Traske to obey. Then, placing his finger directly on the symbol, the Gryphon began to rub it. As he did, Cabe moved next to him.

The golems, the chamber, and Benjin Traske began to fade away. Only the tapestry remained the same. It was as if a great fog were building up, a fog that somehow did not affect the duo or the artifact.

The Gryphon continued to rub. Quickly the chamber and all in it vanished, only to be immediately replaced by the dim image of a corridor and countless shelves. Within seconds, the image became distinct. The last vestiges of blurriness faded away before a full minute had elapsed since the transfer had begun.

Cabe and his companion stared down both directions of the corridor. All the great books were in place and everything was as neat as was possible. Yet, once before a drake, the fatalistic Ice Dragon, had somehow obtained entrance to this magical place. The warlock wondered if that intrusion had at last been repeated.

“That’s odd,” commented the Gryphon.

“Seems quiet to me.”

“Yes. Absolutely quiet. Where is the librarian?”

The hairless little gnome was nowhere to be seen. Always he, or perhaps another exactly like him, appeared to those arriving in the libraries. This time, however, it was as if the vast structure had just been abandoned.

“Maybe he was too far away for once.” Even Cabe doubted his suggestion. The gnome should have been awaiting them.

The Gryphon continued to scan both ends of the corridor. “I think that perhaps we’d-”

Cabe glanced at his companion. The lionbird was staring past him at something far down the passage. The warlock turned and saw that the gnome had at last made an appearance.

The crooked little figure stood no higher than Cabe’s waist. Somehow, despite his size, he had always impressed the mage as a creature not to be trifled with. The notion had always lingered despite the fact that the gnome had never made any hostile gesture toward any of them.

“I am afraid that the libraries must be closed to you for a time, former lord of Penacles.”

“Closed? That’s ridiculous! They’ve never been-”

The sudden silence filled Cabe Bedlam with fear for his companion. He tore his gaze from the gnome and looked at the Gryphon . . . but found no one beside him. Immediately, he turned his attention back to the ominous little figure. “What have you done with him?”

“He is back in the chamber, as you will be, too, Bedlam.” The creature sighed. “Your family will insist on disrupting my existence for all eternity. I have never seen such a consistent streak for falling into trouble as your tree bears.”

“What does that mean?” The gnome had known some of his ancestors? Cabe doubted somehow that the librarian was speaking of Azran or Nathan. He suddenly had the suspicion that this gnome was incredibly old.

“Your line will probably be the death of me yet . . . or rather again. By laws that I myself put into effect, fool that I was, I can tell you nothing more save that the face of your terror is before you often.”

It was a warning as twisted in riddle as any other answer given by the tomes of the libraries. Cabe wanted to demand a better answer, but before he was able to say anything-

– he was back in the Gryphon’s old chambers.

“Cabe!” The lionbird grabbed him by the arms as if to assure himself that the robed warlock was real. “What happened? Where were you?”

“Being told puzzles by the gnome. I do know one thing; not only has he existed for as long as the libraries, but he seems to have met a few of my ancestors over that time.”

“Did he explain what he meant by that nonsense about the libraries being closed?”

“I think he did.” Cabe repeated his short conversation with the crooked little figure. When he was finished, the Gryphon and Benjin Traske both looked as confused as he felt.

“It suggests something about Toma, I would think, but with so much else going on, there could be other meanings. How typical of the libraries.”

“Whatever the meaning, he indicated that there would be no more information or aid. I gathered that he couldn’t.”

“We shall see.” Returning to the tapestry, the Gryphon raised a clawed hand with the intention of rubbing the libraries’ symbol and returning to the hidden edifice. However, midway to the ancient artifact, the lionbird halted his hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“The symbol . . . it’s disappeared!”

The warlock could scarcely believe that. Trailed by Benjin Traske, he joined the Gryphon in his search. The dragon symbol had not only disappeared, but there was no new symbol to replace it. Even if Cabe had somehow missed it, he knew that the sharp eyes of his companion would not have. The Gryphon knew every detail of the tapestry and every nuance of its function.

“I didn’t think that was possible!” muttered the former monarch. “It shouldn’t be! He has to obey! The libraries serve the lord of Penacles or whomever he permits access to it. The libraries know that Toos has given me leave!”

Cabe considered that. “Perhaps that’s why we can’t enter now. Perhaps the libraries are somehow serving Toos or you by doing this.” He suddenly thought about the visions that had appeared in the Manor. Was it, too, trying to warn or protect those who lived within? “Is that a possibility?”

“A very peculiar possibility, but, yes, one that might be worth contemplating.” Still bristling, the Gryphon glanced at the third member of their party. “I apologize, Benjin. This was hardly expected. Perhaps next time that you are here we will be able to make the journey.”

“I am patient, my lord.” Although his face was bland, the scholar’s eyes again revealed his disappointment.

“Then let us return to the others and see how the game is progressing.” Despite his attempts to be cheerful, the Gryphon was clearly still upset about this development. Never had the libraries defied him so.

By the time they returned to the arena, the game was almost in its climax. Cabe and the others joined Toos, who stepped away for a moment to speak with them.

“It’s Grath’s turn. He’s trying to find a way out of his predicament, but I think it’ll be checkmate in a few moves. He was threatening to beat the young emperor-to-be, but then his luck turned. Made some bad moves. Misjudged his champions’ opponents. There’s no way the king can fight his way out if he’s cornered, which he will be soon enough.” He glanced back to make certain that Grath had not yet moved. “Lord Kyl will hardly need my help now.”

“How well do they play?” asked the Gryphon.

“Early in the game, I would have said that Grath could have given either of us trouble, but now I’d have to say that both of them are good players who still have to learn. Lord Kyl looks to be the better of the two.”

A warrior on the field moved. The general excused himself and returned to the game, but Kyl was already commanding his knight forward. Toos remained next to the dragon heir just long enough to discuss the move, then left the young drake to his own efforts.

“Not the move that I would’ve made, but it’ll bring the battle to an end soon enough. The Gryphon informed me earlier that he might bring you to the libraries. Is that where you were? Did you enjoy them, Scholar Traske? I don’t believe that you’ve ever been to them.”

The Gryphon answered for them. “We were forbidden entrance, Toos. The gnome said that the libraries were closed to us!”

It was evident that the regent did not believe what he was hearing. “That’s preposterous!”

“True, but it happened.”

“Tell me everything.”

They did. Toos listened in disbelief, shaking his head when they were finished.

“Madness!” he snarled. “I’m inclined to take this as a sign that we should cancel this entire affair, but that’s out of the question. Perhaps it’s so many drakes nearby. There’s not been this many dragons in the land since the siege led by Kyrg.”

The others had not considered that fact . . . or, at least, the warlock had not. He eyed the Gryphon who was nodding thoughtfully. “That, too, is a possibility, but I think that there’s no doubt that Toma is somehow involved. Cabe’s conversation with the librarian was a murky one at best, but I feel that that’s what it concerned.”

“Well, I think that I’ll try to see if they’ll let me enter, though I doubt it. In the meantime, you can rest assured that measures will be taken in this matter.”

“We know that we can trust you to do that. Toma may try to get near to our young emperor-to-be, so perhaps you might want your people to keep a special watch on him.”

“Oh, believe me; they are.”

An exclamation of triumph informed them that the game was at an end. As expected, Kyl had emerged the victor. Grath waved his congratulations from where he sat. Behind the younger brother, the Dragon King put a consoling hand on Grath’s shoulder.

“We should inform Lord Green,” Cabe suggested.

Toos studied the drake lord. “Yes, I’d thought of that. I’ll do so this evening, when we discuss the final details of this visit. You all know that there’s the required reception so the aristocrats and merchants and such can feel impressive. I’d also planned a ride out to where two of our best units are having their field exercises, but it might be best to postpone that. I’ll have to see what the lord of Dagora thinks about it.”

Kyl chose to join them then, which ended the conversation. The young drake was elated with his victory. “Did you all sssee? What a fassscinating game! I shall have to devissse sssomething akin to it once I asssume the throne! What a marvelousss passstime!”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much,” returned Toos, pretending that nothing was amiss. “There will be opportunity to play again, of course, but I’m sorry to say that for now matters of state must take my time. If you will excuse me, I think the Lord Gryphon will be happy to show you the armory. Penacles might be called the City of Knowledge, but we have amassed quite an interesting array of armaments, too.”

Kyl’s eyes were bright with eagerness. He had not yet calmed down after his victory. “Yesss! I would be delighted!”

“Excellent! There are also some last arrangements to be made for the events of the next few days, arrangements that will be passed on for your approval later this evening. I hope you’ll find your time here well spent.”

The regent bid them all farewell, including Grath and the Dragon King, who had just rejoined the party. Grath, too, looked exhausted from the game, but he seemed slightly less enthusiastic. Considering the outcome, Cabe did not think the younger drake’s attitude at all surprising.

“An excellent game, Your Majesty,” the Dragon King commented.

“Yesss, it wasss! Lord Green, when I am emperor, I would like your help in creating a version of thisss tournament for our own kind.”

“I will be happy to be of ssservice, although I fear our warriors might be a little more inclined to blood than these humans were.”

That did not seem to bother the heir at all. In fact, the warlock thought that he looked much too hopeful.

“If Your Majesty is ready to depart,” the Gryphon interrupted, “the royal armory requires a short ride.”

“Armory?” questioned the Dragon King.

“It isss sssupposssed to be fassscinating, Lord Green!”

The drake lord acknowledged Kyl’s words. “You will certainly enjoy it, my liege, but I must request you permit me to stay behind. I mussst really see how things are progressing with the rest of our caravan. We want no incidents such as happened with the artisan Osseuss. I would like to make certain that everyone knows what they are and are not permitted to do.”

Kyl was not about to miss the armory. He waved away the Dragon King. “Of course, you have my permission. You will report to me later?”

The Green Dragon’s tone was neutral. “Of course, my emperor.”

Once again, it amazed Cabe to see how willingly the Dragon King bent before the young heir. Green truly had to want this peace to work, for there could be no other reason for his willingness to suffer Kyl’s bouts of lordliness. The warlock sincerely doubted that he could be so understanding.

The matter dismissed from his thoughts, the eager young heir turned back to the Gryphon. “We may depart whenever you wish, Lord Gryphon.”

“Thank you.” Kyl did not notice the slight touch of humor in the lionbird’s tone, but it was all Cabe could do to keep from smiling. “Lord Green, if you’ll join us for a short time, I will find you a proper escort to lead you to your chambers.”

“That would be sssuitable, thank you.” Even under present circumstances, any drake who walked alone in Penacles risked danger. Not as great a danger as in Talak, but enough that such a risk was not to be taken.

They had only just begun walking when Cabe felt someone touch him on the shoulder. He turned to find Grath behind him, which startled the sorcerer a bit, since the younger drake always seemed either at the side of his brother or next to the Dragon King.

“What is it, Grath?”

“Master Bedlam, is Darkhorse coming? I think Kyl was expecting him to be here. He will not disappoint us, will he?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since we returned from Talak.” Realizing that, the mage’s earlier worries came back multiplied. It had been quite some time since he or anyone had seen the eternal. Had something happened?

The young drake’s thoughts apparently mirrored his own. “Do you think he’s all right?”

“He should be. Darkhorse has a tendency to turn up at the most unexpected times. He’ll likely materialize in the midst of the reception, just like he did in Talak.”

That brought a brief smile to Grath’s handsome face, but then the smile slipped as he said, “I hope nothing’s wrong.”

The conversation ended there. Moments later, Grath drifted back to his brother’s side.

Try as he might, the warlock could not stop thinking about the shadow steed. He was certain that Darkhorse had continued on with his investigations into the mysterious traps some unknown enemy had planted.

Unknown enemy? With all else he had been blamed for, could not such cunning, magical traps have been set by Toma? It made perfect sense to Cabe, although he was willing to admit that he was paranoid when it came to the renegade. Still, it would explain a lot.

Darkhorse in the claws of Toma. . . .